


Pompeii

by JustAnotherOutcast



Category: White Collar
Genre: Bickering, Dinosaurs, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Neal does not want a pet dino thanks, Pets, i made this idea far more serious than it has any right to be, scattered throughout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 02:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14415960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherOutcast/pseuds/JustAnotherOutcast
Summary: Neal finds a baby dinosaur on his way home from work. No, really. Said dinosaur leads to many stresses and strains on his life and his relationships. And lots of other pet-related mayhem.





	Pompeii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mozzie convinces Neal that velociraptors make good pets.

He wasn’t sure what compelled him to bring the creature back home. Maybe it had to do with the chill in the air, or the fact that the thing could barely hold its head up from the rubble of its egg, or the fact that it started screaming the second Neal left its line of sight. Regardless of the reason, Neal already felt he was in way over his head.

He really did think it was a bird at first. It had to be; the bone structure, the small feathers that dotted its ugly, unfurling body, the talons... Well, they weren’t really bird talons, were they? The maw full of tiny, sharp teeth really tipped him off.

Not a bird. A dinosaur.

As most people would in this situation, Neal had to take a moment to sort through his disbelief. There really was no way it was a dinosaur. This wasn’t some futuristic sci-fi novel, and even if that suddenly was the world he lived in, why on Earth would the dinosaur be abandoned in some random back alley of New York City? There was no good explanation.

And despite all this, the creature was solid, breathing and shifting. It was too sophisticated to be a mutation, or maybe Neal just didn’t know anything about animal mutations. It wasn’t exactly something he needed to know about in his line of work. Er, former line of work.

The disbelief settled and fell away the longer he beheld the creature. Well, it mostly vanished because it started screaming. It was shivering, looking at him from the remains of what had to be an egg, and Neal felt his mind go blank.

He didn’t have any experience to fall back on to deal with this situation. So he picked it up. That was a good idea, right? Were he able to think at that moment, he probably wouldn’t have thought so. But that’s the thing; he wasn’t thinking, and that made it a whole heck of a lot easier to carry the small dinosaur home with him.

It was impossible, and something about that made Neal feel the urge to shrug and go along with it. That’s what he did most of the time anyway.

As impossible as the creature was, that didn’t stop it from guzzling down the warmed milk Neal offered it, along with a few strips of lunch meat (because really, only mammals drink milk, right...?). After eating, the raptor seemed very interested in the warmth Neal provided, seeing as it wailed anytime he pulled it away from his chest. So, he settled at the table with a glass of wine and let the thing rest in his lap while he pulled his laptop towards him.

It was kind of endearing, in a way, Neal had to admit. The way that baby animals were sometimes. However, he was still thrown by the whole dinosaur thing. What, exactly, was he supposed to do with it? He couldn’t very well keep it. There were laws against owning exotic pets without a license, and he didn’t want to get sent back to prison over something as dumb as that.

Neal snorted. He had a living dinosaur in his hands, and he was worried about licensing.

There were more pressing concerns. “You’re not going to try to eat me, are you?”

The dinosaur squawked up at him in response.

Neal ran a hand through his hair, sighing in frustration. Why did life have to throw the weirdest things at him? He already had enough going on.

He’d warm it up, keep it alive, then hand it off to someone who knew what they were doing. He had no idea who that might be, but there was this wonderful thing called Google. It wouldn’t give him a direct answer, but some kind of bird specialist would probably be better suited than him for dealing with the thing.

“Neal, I’m stealing your wine for a very important—What is that thing in your lap?”

Neal turned to his doorway to look at Mozzie, who had unceremoniously entered his apartment before being stopped at the sight before him.

“Oh, sure, come on in, Mozz,” Neal responded dryly.

“Is that a _dinosaur_?”

Neal glanced at the creature he held. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“Hardly,” Mozzie breathed, stepping closer to look at it. “That is no bird, my friend.”

“I noticed. Could you grab a blanket from the couch?” Neal asked. “I’m a little trapped.” He motioned to the raptor asleep in his lap. As Mozzie nodded, Neal continued. “I think there’s an exotic animals vet nearby that could take it.”

“You’re getting _rid_ of it?” Mozzie asked, pausing in his motions to grab the blanket. “Why?”

Neal frowned in response. “It’s not a lost kitten, Mozz. ‘Living dinosaur’ is kind of a big deal.”

“Exactly! You’re going to hand it over to the Man, just like that?”

“That’s probably were it came from.”

“And you trust the government to be responsible with that thing?”

“No, but I’d argue that my loft is not the best hiding place from the government.”

“Better than the pound.”

“You take it then, if I can’t give it to anyone else.”

“I’m always on the move; leaving it alone in one of the safehouses would be a monstrously bad idea.”

“So I’m stuck babysitting for the pet _you_ want to keep?”

“You’re the one who picked it up!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t plan on adopting it.”

“Oh, come on, it likes you,” Mozzie said, gesturing to the small dinosaur dozing peacefully in Neal’s lap. “You’re mama!”

Neal grimaced. “You are never allowed to call me that again.”

Mozzie gave Neal a look. “Regardless, it’s mostly likely imprinted on you. Leaving it here is the best option.”

Neal sighed in exasperation, pulling the lid of the laptop down. “Mozz, I can’t just adopt a _dinosaur_. We need to tell someone.”

“Tell _who_? If we get anyone from the government involved, you can bet we’ll never see that thing alive again.”

“You do realize this is a carnivorous hunter, right?” Neal rebutted. “Some kind of genetic experiment. We’ve got absolutely no precedent or example of how to deal with it; what do you expect us to do? Not to mention I don’t want to become the star in the next Jurassic Park.”

“It’s barely a foot long.”

“And it _just_ hatched.”

Mozzie adjusted his glasses. “It’s probably a velociraptor—”

“ _That’s_ reassuring.”

“—which are significantly smaller than popular media would have you believe. Won’t get bigger than a dog.”

“But it’s not a _dog_ , Mozz,” Neal said, speaking deliberately as he stared the other down.

“Fine then!” Mozzie crossed his arms. “Call the cops, call animal control. She’ll be in some 2 by 2 animal cage by this time tomorrow, awaiting vicious scientists and their insatiable desire for blood.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Neal responded with a glare.

Mozzie responded only by raising his eyebrows, daring Neal to tell him he was wrong.

Neal, in turn, sighed. He glanced down at the sleeping creature in his lap, watching its small chest rapidly rise and fall. After a couple of seconds, he deflated, shoulders dropping as he sighed once more.

“Fine. This isn’t going to end well, though.”

“We’ll manage, my friend,” Mozzie reassured as he stood, heading towards the door. “Since you are currently a breathing pillow, I’ll go grab some essentials.”

“Essentials?”

“Food, toys, blankets, leashes, all the things a tiny raptor needs to be happy.”

Neal snorted, not a fan of how permanent Mozzie’s supply list made the creature’s stay. At least Mozzie was happy about it.

 

* * *

 

“I  have acquired the appropriate goods, and dinner.” Mozzie raised the plastic bags in his hands, and Neal stepped aside to let him into the loft.

“Great, you can put it—”

Neal was suddenly interrupted by a high pitch wail coming from the couch. Irritation lacing his features, Neal sidestepped from the door so he was facing the couch. “I’m _still here_ ,” he said, spreading his arms as if to show himself off and staring down the small raptor curled in a blanket atop the sofa. It simply stared back, silent now. Only a few hours out of its shell, and it was holding its head much more steadily than before.

“I was right about the imprinting,” Mozzie commented, placing the bags on the kitchen table. Or dining room table. The Room Table. Fuck open concept.

Neal turned, making his way to the table as Mozzie began to unload the bags. “That's happened four times since you left.”

“Adorable.”

Neal glared lightly, picking up one of the many packaged goods his companion was placing on the table. “A cat lazer?”

“Fortune favors the prepared,” Mozzie supplied. “I got a feather toy, an obnoxious ball with a bell inside—”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You're welcome—A couple of chew toys—”

“If either have a squeaker, I'm throwing them out.”

“—A tug-of-war rope—”

“Mozz, do they have squeakers.”

“—A couple of raw hide bones—”

“Mozz.”

“—A duck's foot—”

“Mo— A _what_?”

“—A pig's ear—”

“How many bits of animal carnage did you bring into my home?”

“It's a carnivore, Neal. It's either the duck's foot or yours.”

“Remind me why we're keeping it.”

Mozzie ignored him, returning to his bags. “Cat box, litter, scooper. I have no idea if velociraptors can be litter trained, but it’s worth a shot,” he explained at Neal’s look. “Various cans of dog and cat food, a dog blanket, and food bowls with cheap and lazy patterns on them.”

Neal observed one of the bowls, both of which were covered with little dog and cat faces with an atrocious yellow plaid background. “That’s definitely being painted over.”

Mozzie nodded in agreement. “And then for us, Thai food.”

“Great.” Neal began digging into the Thai food bag and pulling the containers out when another wail was heard from the couch. “I’m still here, you bird-brain,” Neal called, not looking away from his task.

Mozzie stepped closer to the couch, watching the small raptor. “Maybe she’s hungry.”

“Maybe.” Neal threw a quizzical glance back at his friend. “‘She’?”

Mozzie simply shrugged.

Neal finished clearing a space for the food laid about the table, shoving all the pet supplies to the side in favor of the Thai food containers and plates. “Well, ‘she’ can have some more lunch meat,” he offered as he grabbed an open bottle of wine, refilling his old glass and grabbing one for Mozzie.

With an eager expression, Mozzie scurried past Neal and over to the fridge, pulling out the aforementioned meats. He quickly returned to the dinosaur who eagerly snapped up the pieces of meat he offered.

Neal raised an eyebrow as he seated himself at the table, watching his friend. “You could still take her home,” he offered.

“Home is an illusion for people like me,” Mozzie muttered distractedly.

“Uh-huh.” Neal took a sip of his wine before serving himself a good portion of the food. He was soon joined by Mozzie, who did the same, seating himself across from Neal.

“She’s going to need a name,” Mozzie commented.

“Names mean you get attatched,” Neal retorted.

“Precisely.”

“This can’t be a permanent thing, Mozz.”

“Oh, what, would June disapprove?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Just,” Mozzie paused lightly, “Give her a name. It’ll make it easier to talk about her, at least.”

“Dinosaur.”

“Try again.”

“Steven Spielberg.”

“Cute. No.”

“You name it then,” Neal relented, digging his fork into a piece of chicken.

“You're being an aloof asshole,” Mozzie retorted.

Neal huffed out a sigh, casting a glare at Mozzie as he lowered his fork. Before he could speak however, the wailing from previous resumed. Neal glanced upwards in exasperation, whispering, “she _just_ ate.”

“Feed her some chicken,” Mozzie suggested.

“This is my chicken. _You_ feed it some chicken,” Neal responded, probably more offended than he had any right to be.

Mozzie let out a frustrated huff. “Go bond with your child, Neal!”

“It is _not_ my _child_.”

“Well, you’re the closest she’s got to a parent, and I’m not letting you leave her on some doorstep just because you’re scared of that!” Mozzie’s voice was raised as he spoke, and he quickly averted his gaze to his food.

The two remained in an awkward silence for a few beats before Neal spoke. “Look, Mozz—” Only to be interrupted once more by the raptor resuming her cries.

Neal heaved a sigh and stood, carrying his plate over to the demanding dinosaur and beginning to offer it pieces of chicken.

“You know, dinosaurs are related to birds,” Neal spoke towards his friend. “This could be considered forced cannibalism.”

Mozzie snorted from the table, taking a sip of his wine, but not yet ready to engaging in conversation.

A few more moments of silence passed, Neal watching the raptor eagerly swallow down his food. “Vesuvius.”

“...What?” Mozzie called.

“That’s her name. Vesuvius.”

Mozzie shook his head. “That’s terrible. What kind of a name is that?”

“It’s a compromise,” Neal explained. “You can call her Vessie.”

It was Mozzie’s turn to sigh as he stared at the other’s back. “Fine then.” He stood, grabbing Neal’s wine and carrying it over to him. He then turned to look at the raptor and raised his glass. “Welcome to the family, Vessie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so a note on the name, Vesuvius is the name of the volcano that destroyed Pompeii. Mount Vesuvius, to be specific. What with Neal dreading the future of the dino, I figured it was appropriate. The other name idea was Tango, and while it was fuckin adorable, I couldn't figure out how to write a good scene where they came up with that name lol
> 
> Also I'm vaguely concerned that Neal might be a bit too grumpy here? He seems pretty grumpy in the other stuff I have written for this too, so I'm trying to tone it down a bit. It's just the funnest parts to write are the parts where he could easily be annoyed -w-;


End file.
